“You need your strength.” His dark gaze pins me in place. “And since you missed a few meals…”
“A few?” I scoff, tearing off a piece of the buttery pastry. “What time is it anyway?”
“Nearly two in the afternoon.”
I choke on my bite. “What?”
His smirk deepens as he slides a glass of water toward me. “You needed the rest.”
“Jesus, Remy. You let me sleep half the day away?” The thought of losing so many hours makes my skin crawl, but my body’s renewed energy argues against my protests.
“Let you?” He raises an eyebrow, loading a plate with eggs Benedict. “I doubt anyone lets you do anything, Eve. But yes, I ensured you weren’t disturbed.”
The plate appears in front of me, the rich sauce glistening. “Eat.”
I narrow my eyes at his commanding tone but pick up my fork. The first bite melts in my mouth, and I can’t hold back a small moan of appreciation.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and heat floods my cheeks.
“Don’t push it,” I warn, but there’s no real bite to my words. It’s hard to maintain my usual defenses while savoring perfectly poached eggs.
Remy prepares his own plate and joins me, his shoulder brushing mine as he settles beside me. The casual intimacy of the moment catches me off guard.
“So,” I say between bites, “is this how you typically spend your afternoons? Arranging elaborate brunches?”
“Only for stubborn journalists who don’t know how to take care of themselves.”
I jab my fork in his direction. “I’ve managed just fine for years.”
“Really?” His voice drops lower. “Is that what you call nearly freezing to death in a walk-in freezer?”
The reminder of the other night’s close call sobers me. Before I can retort, Remy’s expression changes, warmth giving way to something harder, more calculated. He reaches for a folder I hadn’t noticed and slides it across the counter.
“What’s this?” I ask, my appetite vanishing as I pick it up.
“The solution you sorely need to get out of this mess,” he says smoothly. “I spent the morning putting this together while you slept.”
I flip through the papers, my stomach dropping with each page. Legal documents outline a complete dissolution of my investigation. Strategic plans detail how to appease my father. The final page lists relocation options—for me.
“You’re joking,” I whisper, my hands trembling against the damning papers.
“I’m not,” Remy replies. “This is how I keep you alive, Eve. Whether you like it or not.”
I slam the folder shut, the sharp crack echoing through the quiet kitchen. My fingers fist on the damning papers. “You went behind my back?”
“I took action,” Remy counters, his voice calm but edged with steel. His composure only fuels my anger. “Because you refuse to see reason and the reality.”
“You think reason means rolling over for my father?” The words tear from my throat, bitter and sharp. Gone is the peaceful morning, replaced by the familiar taste of betrayal. “Cowardice isn’t reason, Remy! I’m not you, and I won’t let him destroy me like he’s destroyed everyone else.”
Remy steps closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over me. The gentle man from earlier vanishes, replaced by the dangerous fixer I know him to be. “This isn’t about cowardice. It’s about survival.” His dark eyes bore into mine, intense and unyielding. “You think you can take on Ano alone? He’ll crush you, Eve. And I won’t stand by and watch it happen.”
I glare up at him, my nails digging crescents into my palms. The breakfast he so carefully arranged sits forgotten, growing cold like my earlier warmth toward him. “Then don’t. I never asked you to save me. I don’t need you to fix my life.”
He leans in, and despite my fury, my body responds to his proximity. His breath ghosts across my cheek as his voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “You need me more than you want to admit. Without me, you wouldn’t make it out of this city alive.”
“Don’t threaten me,” I spit back, refusing to step away despite how he towers over me. “I’ve survived worse than you.”
His laugh is dark, devoid of humor. “Worse than me? No, Eve. You’ve never faced anything like me.”
